


A Whispered Promise in the Night

by blondsak, seekrest



Series: The Loss of Innocence [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Comicverse), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Peter Parker, Canon-Typical Violence, College Student Peter Parker, Gen, Kidnapping, Peter Parker is not a good (plant) dad, Peter Parker’s overwhelming guilt complex™️, Protective Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, We hold these truths to be self-evident, but not canon compliant, defenestrated as per usual, that all Peter Parker fics are created equal, that among these are: whump angst and the pursuit of Peter generally being a disaster, that they are endowed by their Creators with certain unalienable Rights, tl;dr we put Peter through it in this one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:20:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24473443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blondsak/pseuds/blondsak, https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekrest/pseuds/seekrest
Summary: “You don’t think they’ll come after you, do you?”Peter bites the inside of his cheek. That’s exactly what he thinks-- a growing pit in his stomach telling him that it might be even worse than that. Because sure, it could just be a coincidence... but when has anything in Peter’s life just been coincidence?The answering prickle at the back of his mind seems to confirm it:This was the rest of the Sinister Six.// OR: Following the attack at the cabin, Peter is hoping for a calm rest of the summer. But between four of Spider-Man’s former foes being suddenly on the loose, Beck’s vaguely ominous hints piling up and Peter and Tony increasingly at odds over how to approach any of it, Peter is beginning to suspect thatnothingabout this summer is going to go the way he wants.
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Johnny Storm, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: The Loss of Innocence [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1745542
Comments: 114
Kudos: 135





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is the second story in The Loss of Innocence series. If you haven’t read [A Lone Whistle in the Dark](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23780383/chapters/57124195), we recommend reading that story first. If you have read that one, then buckle up kids-- we’re in for a crazy ride, seeksak style :)))

Peter’s running through the woods, his shoulder and thigh screaming in pain from the earlier bullet wounds, blood pouring down his torn clothes in red stripes. He can hear Morgan screaming somewhere ahead of him, racing toward the sound but never seeming to catch up. 

“Morgan! Mo!” he tries to yell but the words get caught in his throat, the light of the moon swirling around him and making him dizzy as the trees morph into tall skyscrapers, Peter suddenly in the middle of an empty downtown Manhattan. 

“Peter? Peter!”

“MJ?” Peter whispers, hearing her cry out somewhere far above him, running to the nearest building and starting to climb up as fast as he can. But his powers seem to be failing him, and he keeps slipping down and barely catching himself, panic gripping him as MJ calls again and again for him to help her-- to save her. 

Finally, _finally_ he reaches the top, just starting to pull himself up over the ledge when a figure looms overhead, not inches from Peter’s face.

Beck stands before him in his original Mysterio costume, glowing fog swirling in his helmet as he leans over, capturing Peter’s hands underneath his own.

“Did you really think you could escape me, Peter? Did you really think you were _safe?”_

Peter shakes his head as he stares up at the villain, trying to wrench his hands away only to find them stuck fast-- his powers now failing him in an entirely different way than before. Desperate, Peter looks back up at Beck. “You’re not here! I defeated you! This isn’t real!”

Beck just laughs, leaning over as he whispers into Peter’s ear, “Oh, I assure you this is real. After all, Peter-- you might have managed to defeat me, but what about them?”

It’s just then Peter hears menacing laughter far below, looking down only to see nothing but darkness. “No, no, wait--”

“Time to meet the Sinister Six, Spider-Man!” Beck announces, before lifting his arms-- Peter crying out as he’s flung away from the side of the building, falling and falling as his hands claw at the air for purchase. 

The laughter below gets louder and closer, more menacing as Peter falls farther into the darkness, and he cries out as he suddenly feels fingers running through the hair at the back of his skull.

“No, don’t--”

“You can’t run now, Peter,” a chorus of voices whisper-- Peter feeling more hands grab at him, pulling him deeper into the never ending darkness, one of them gripping his other shoulder and shaking, shaking, shaking--

“Pete? Dude? Wake up, bro!”

Peter gasps, eyes opening wide to see not Beck nor large shadows but Johnny Storm leaning over him, the look of mild concern on his face morphing into a small smile. “You with me, Pete?”

Peter takes a deep breath, closing his eyes again. It had just been a nightmare, thank god. Nevermind they’d been near-constant the past week, ever since he’d left the Stark’s cabin to go back to the city. 

“Yeah, I’m with you,” he says as leans back into his pillow, thankful that once more the darkness of his dreams has been replaced by the morning sunlight filtering through his bedroom window-- the bedroom of the new apartment he and Johnny had just moved into not two days before. “What time’s’it?”

“Nearly eight. Just got back from a run-- grabbed some bagels from that place down the street too if you want some.” Johnny pauses. “You sure you’re good?”

Peter smiles, opening his eyes to look back at Johnny again, who despite his open expression still carries a hint of concern in his eyes. “I am. Thanks for waking me up.”

“No problem, dude. Sorry that Mysterio guy has you all,”-- Johnny makes a cuckoo motion at his temple -- “fucked up in the head and stuff.”

Peter chuckles, having been Johnny’s friend long enough by now to know he means well, even if his delivery often leaves something to be desired.

“Thanks, J. I appreciate it.”

“‘Course,” Johnny says, walking over to Peter’s bedroom door only to knock twice on its chipped wood frame, turning back to Peter and pointing a pair of finger guns at him as he quirks his lips, “I always got your back, roomie.”

Peter smiles as Johnny walks out backwards through the doorway, calling out, “Back at you, roomie.”

With a long sigh, Peter gets out of bed, rubbing a hand across his face and heading for the bathroom as he marvels at how fast his life has changed yet again. 

He and Johnny had made the agreement to live together in the spring, Peter feeling an overwhelming desire to _not_ sleep in his childhood bedroom any longer-- having foregone living in Columbia’s dorms his freshman year for the sake of being able to easily come and go from patrols.

So, when Johnny had come to him proposing they get a place together for the summer and coming school year - he himself tired of being under his sister Sue’s thumb at the Baxter Building - it had been an easy choice. After all, the fellow superhero was friendly and kind, and more importantly-- Peter knew he could always trust Johnny to keep his secret safe. 

To his surprise May had agreed to the plan right away, saying that it would be good for Peter to have a bit more freedom and responsibility now that he was an adult. But what Peter hadn’t been ready for was Tony’s response, the displeasure clear in his voice when Peter had called in April to tell him they’d signed a lease on a tiny, cheap two-bedroom in Flushing beginning July 1st.

“You’re gonna live with _that_ guy? Kid, I know you’re not exactly getting the traditional college experience, but shacking up with a wannabe frat boy isn’t the solution.”

“Johnny’s a good guy,” Peter said, only for Tony to huff.

“Maybe so, but let’s be honest, Pete, there’s not exactly a lot going on up there either-- the kid’s nothing but a show pony for SHIELD at the end of the day. Listen, how about you break the lease, and I’ll cover it? You can live at our townhouse in Manhattan, free of charge.”

Peter laughed. “No offense to you, but people in the Upper East Side aren’t exactly jumping at the chance to have a working class Queens kid as their neighbor.”

“Are you calling me and my people a bunch of snobby elitists? Why, Pete, I’m wounded.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “You literally just said I shouldn’t live with Johnny because he’s too dumb.”

“I didn’t say he was too _dumb,_ I merely implied--”

“I’m not gonna break the lease, Tony, and that’s that.”

Since then, Tony - while still obviously less than pleased - had mostly managed to keep his opinions to himself, barring one last attempt right before Peter and May had driven off last week-- one that Pepper had thankfully shut down before Tony could even manage to finish his second sentence.

Now, however, Peter wasn’t the only one back in the city-- the Starks having moved into that same multi-million dollar townhouse while Peter was carrying furniture up the rickety stairs of his own new abode. It was a decision made for Morgan’s sake in the wake of the ordeal with Beck.

It had been obvious to Peter and everyone else that for as much as his nightmares were plaguing him, Morgan was handling the fallout of Beck’s return far worse. She was barely speaking to anyone, staying completely mute for hours only to burst into tears at even the smallest of unexpected sounds or movements. On top of that, her tantrums had escalated to multiple times a day. It was the only time she ever said more than five words in a row, though they were barely understood through her screams-- every single one only serving to feed Peter’s guilt that he’d let Beck traumatize her in the first place.

As things were, it had taken only one meeting with a child psychologist for Tony and Pepper to decide that intensive therapy was the best option, which meant coming back to the city for the summer. It was something Peter had supported even as a selfish part of him had longed to truly experience being out from under May _and_ Tony’s thumb this summer. There was no doubt that Tony would be a far worse helicopter mentor now that he was only a few miles away, and especially with the memory of finding Peter bruised and bleeding out at Beck’s hands still so fresh.

As if the thought summons the man, Peter’s phone starts to ring just as he finishes getting dressed back in his bedroom.

“Hey Tony, what’s up?”

“Hey kid. Just wanted to call and wish you good luck with your first day.”

Peter smiles. “Thanks-- I’m about to have breakfast and head out. Might actually be on time for once.”

Tony chuckles on the other end. “That sounds like a good plan. You’re gonna need the sustenance if you want to be on your toes.”

“Yeah. Anyway, thanks for calling, but I’m--”

“Well, there’s actually something else I need to tell you while I got you here,” Tony interjects, Peter going still and looking around his room.

“Okay... what is it?”

“It’s about your internship. Or, well-- about where it’s located.”

Peter’s brow furrows. The brand new Northwest Corner Building - or NWC, for short - had only just opened in mid-May, as the school year was winding down. It was fourteen stories - seven floors of which were just dedicated research labs for various professors and not accessible to all students - with twenty-one larger study labs, a science library, a cafe, and a giant lecture hall. 

When construction had first been announced in the fall, it had been the talk of every STEM major for how quickly it was progressing-- normal building projects of such size taking 3-5 years or more before completion. It was Dr. Octavius who finally cast aside the various rumors, revealing during one of his lectures that it had been the result of a very large and anonymous donation to the school, but with specific instructions for its use.

When Tony doesn’t continue, Peter says, “Okay? What’s going on?”

There’s a long breath on the other end. “SHIELD uncovered security footage of Beck entering and exiting the building twice, once in late May and again in mid-June.”

Peter’s eyes go wide. “But, why would he go there? I only stepped foot in the building for the first time yesterday, to get my lab ID.”

“That’s the million dollar question, kid. From the camera footage, he doesn’t appear to have stolen anything, which means he likely was there to meet with someone.”

“Like who?”

There’s a pause in the conversation then, and Peter can already tell where this is going. “You don’t think it’s Dr. Octavius, do you?”

“SHIELD doesn’t know who, and Beck isn’t--”

“I didn’t ask about SHIELD,” Peter interjects. “I asked what _you_ think.”

There’s a long sigh. “Look, Pete. I have nothing against the guy personally, but he _did_ work at Oscorp for over twenty years. There’s no knowing--”

“So because you don’t like Norman Osborn, Dr. Octavius is, what? Guilty by association?” 

“That’s not what I said at all, kid. But that doesn’t change the fact that Oscorp has been involved in some very shady shit in the past, and many of its employees as well,” Tony retorts, then with a bit more bite, “I should think you of all people would understand that.”

Peter rubs at his forehead, trying to quell his rising frustration. He knows Tony means well, but this whole conversation feels completely out of left field, not to mention slightly unfair considering it sounds like Tony and SHIELD didn’t really have much of anything to go on, besides a few seconds of footage.

“So what do you want me to do, then?” he asks, trying his best to keep his voice measured. “Quit my internship?”

“No, of course not,” Tony says, and Peter can practically see him shaking his head. “I just-- I want you to be careful, okay? And if you notice anything off, about _anyone,_ no matter how small-- I want you to let me know. Can you do that for me?”

Peter bites the inside of his cheek hard, wanting to ask why he can’t just talk to Fury directly himself if he discovers any new intel. Instead he replies, “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Good. I appreciate it, Pete,” Tony says, only for an uncomfortable silence to follow.

It’s Peter who finally breaks it, saying stiffly, “I should really get going, or I’m going to be late.”

“Oh yeah, of course,” Tony says quickly, then more softly, “I really do hope you have a good first day, kid.”

Peter sighs, wishing he still felt as excited about the day as he had the first time Tony said that. 

“Thanks, Tony.”

* * *

Peter’s still feeling off about his conversation with Tony when he walks into the lobby of NWC, scanning his student ID through the security checkpoint and making his way to the elevator. 

Unlike how it would be in the fall when school was back in session, the building is relatively empty - Peter closing his eyes, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly as he tries to focus on the present. After all, it was the first day of an internship that if it went well, could become something more long-term. 

But it’s hard not to dwell when he’s about to work alongside the person Tony was just laying into - someone who not just Peter but _everyone_ in Columbia’s biochem department seemed to admire and respect.

Dr. Octavius was known not just for being a genius - churning out academic articles on innovative genomic sequencing tactics - but also generous with his intellectual gifts, spending hours in his lab looking for cures for diseases that primarily affected low-resource communities around the world.

If there was anyone who lived out the embodiment of looking out for the little guy, it was Dr. Octavius. Which is how Peter knows Tony has to be wrong-- even if a small part of him is aware he should try to stay open-minded and vigilant.

Peter balls his hands into fist then releases, pushing away Tony’s words once more as the elevator dings - signaling his arrival. 

He’s immediately thrown off balance by the familiar prickle in the back of his neck as he snaps his eyes open. He hears the yelling down the hall, taking a few tentative steps forward. 

“AND IF I ASK FOR YOU TO DO SOMETHING, I EXPECT IT TO BE DONE IMMEDIATELY! NOT WHEN YOU FEEL LIKE IT, NOT WHEN YOU _WANT_ TO. IMMEDIATELY DAMMIT!” he hears a man yelling out, Peter’s senses screaming at him as he continues to walk forward. 

Whoever they are is so loud that Peter doesn’t even need his enhancements to hear them but it’s disconcerting all the same, wondering if he should intervene when a glass door slides open to his right - jolting him slightly in surprise, so focused on the continued yelling of the man in the lab next door.

“Hello Peter, I see you’ve met our neighbors in the adjoining research lab,” Dr. Octavius chuckles softly, Peter’s senses still ringing as he blinks a few times, “Or _heard_ them, more specifically.”

“Dr. Octavius, hi. I’m-- sorry I’m late, I was--” Peter goes to apologize only for Dr. Octavius to smile and put a hand on his shoulder.

“I was aware of your perpetual tardiness when I offered you the summer position, Peter. Don’t worry. Your work speaks for itself.” The professor grins, nodding towards the direction of the man yelling across the hall, “Can’t say the same for my colleague Dr. Connors.”

Peter’s mouth forms an ‘o’, nodding in recognition as Dr. Octavius smiles at him. For as beloved and celebrated as Dr. Octavius was in the Biochemistry and Molecular Biophysics Department at Columbia, Dr. Connors was just as reviled - a harsh, critical man who took no prisoners in his exams and held the highest standards for everyone, much less himself.

There was a rumor that the only reason Dr. Connors hadn’t been fired had less to do because of tenure and everything to do with some kind of blackmail that Dr. Connors had on the dean. Whether that was true, Peter didn’t know or care - already dreading his enrollment into Organic Chemistry with him in the fall.

Yet this is different - the creeping, pervasive anxiety of his senses yelling at him that something is wrong, further setting Peter off when he’d already had a rough start of it this morning.

In any other situation, at any other point in his life - Peter would’ve just dismissed it as common nerves or exasperation, rolling his eyes that his spider senses had manifested itself as anxiety by another name.

But Peter’s failure to recognize Beck’s presence at the cabin not even two weeks before is still at the forefront of his mind, guilt nudging at him once more as he tries to swallow it down.

“You doing alright, Peter? I hope Curt hasn’t scared you off,” Dr. Octavius gently says, bringing Peter out of his thoughts as he turns back to him - forcing a smile on his face as he shakes his head.

“No, no I’m okay, Dr. Octavius. Thanks. I’m uh, I’m glad for the chance to work with you this summer.” 

Dr. Octavius smiles again, extending his hand out to the lab - Peter seeing a few older classmates already there and setting up as he says, “That’s wonderful to hear, Peter. Don’t worry, we don’t bite over here.”

Peter laughs, Dr. Octavius’ smile warm and comforting despite the prickling sensation he still feels in the back of his neck, hearing Dr. Connors’ continued screams in the background.

“Sounds like _he_ does though,” Peter says without thinking, hoping that he didn’t take a step too far - knowing that Dr. Connors was an asshole but he was _still_ a professor.

Dr. Octavius just laughs, a full-throated hearty one that makes Peter smile even more as he says, “You’ll fit right in.” 

* * *

Peter’s in a much better mood when he gets back to the apartment that evening, having had a lively and interesting first day.

But even with his mind occupied by his excitement over the internship, he can’t help but think back to the sense he’d had that morning that something was deeply wrong-- wondering if he should tell Tony about it. After all, he had promised he’d tell Tony about even the smallest thing. 

And yet, a part of him thinks that maybe it would be best not to share anything about Connors until he had more information. Because while Peter himself strongly suspected Connors was up to no good, that didn’t automatically mean he was involved with Beck’s crimes. 

And after seeing how Tony had seemed dead set on suspecting Dr. Octavius despite having no actual proof-- well, Peter didn’t want to be too hasty, and especially knowing that neither Tony nor SHIELD would hesitate to invade every facet of Connors’ privacy as a result.

No, Peter would wait until he had something more concrete before he shared his suspicions.

“Pete, is that you?” he hears Johnny call from the living room just as he steps into the kitchen. “There’s chili in the fridge if you want some!”

“Thanks, J!” Peter calls back out before helping himself to a large bowl-- tentatively taking a bite only to grin appreciatively. Johnny’s a much better cook than May, he’s relieved to discover.

After finishing one bowl Peter ladles up another, pouring himself a glass of water and taking both into the living room. He plops down on the couch next to Johnny, who is flipping through channels absentmindedly, settling finally on the news.

“How’d it go?” Johnny asks.

“Good, really good actually,” Peter answers honestly. “How was your day?”

“Not bad, went over to the Baxter Building for a while before going shopping for more stuff for the apartment,” Johnny says, then more somberly, “but I do have some kind of serious news to share with you.”

“Oh?” Peter says, feeling a twinge of concern. “What is it?”

“Peter,” Johnny says most solemnly, “you’re going to be a father.”

Peter’s eyes go wide, nearly dropping his bowl of chili into his lap but for his sticky fingers.

“What? What the-- that’s not-- MJ isn’t--”

Johnny lets out a boisterous laugh, leaning over the side of the couch and plucking up a rather sad looking tiny potted plant from off the floor and setting it on the coffee table. “Meet Archibald, our new plant baby.”

Peter’s jaw drops, before he rolls his eyes. “Very funny, J.”

“I’m being serious right now, bro! I’m his plant papa, which makes _you_ his plant daddy-- and together we are gonna raise Archibald into a fine young fern.”

“I am _nobody’s_ daddy,” Peter says firmly, rolling his eyes. “And anyway, I got a brown thumb. I don’t think I could keep a plant made of Legos alive if I tried.”

“That’s why we’re doing it together,” Johnny says, smiling fondly as he reaches out-- tenderly stroking one of the plant’s leaves. “Right, Archie? Me and your dad here are going to make sure you get big and strong.”

“I hate to break it to you, J,” Peter says, eyeing the plant more closely, “but it doesn’t look like he’s going to last the week, and definitely not with us as parents.”

“Don’t listen to him, Archibald. Dad’s just being grumpy, he had a long first day at work,” Johnny reassures the plant, then looking over at Peter accusingly, whispers, “Don’t say that stuff in front of him, dude. Sheesh. Now apologize, before he starts to believe it.”

Peter sighs, resisting the urge to roll his eyes again as he says, “I’m sorry I said that... _Archie._ I didn’t mean it. I’m sure you’ll stay alive and uh, get a lot more green and leafy soon.”

Johnny grins at him, looking appeased. 

Peter shakes his head once more, smiling as he lifts another spoonful of chili to his mouth, only to go still when his eyes catch what’s on the TV screen-- a young female reporter standing near the edge of the East River, the lights of Rikers Island in the distance.

“Hey, can you turn that up?”

“Sure thing, bro,” Johnny says, grabbing the remote.

_“...have now surfaced that there was a break-out earlier today at Rikers Jail, leaving two guards injured, one of whom is in critical condition. The list of known escapees currently stands at four, and includes William Baker, Sergei Kravinoff, MacDonald Gargan, and Herman Schultz-- known better to city citizens as the villains Sandman, Kraven, Scorpion and Shocker. Now, it is not known at this time how the prisoners escaped, only that they are no longer on the island. Authorities are asking citizens not to panic, but to please report any unusual activity and stay vigilant until the escapees have been apprehended.”_

The screen jumps back to the newsroom, the male news anchor saying, _“Thank you, Mehar. Now onto sports, it’s looking like the Mets will be--”_

Johnny shuts off the television, staring at Peter with wide eyes. “Pete, weren’t you the one who--”

“Yeah,” Peter replies quietly. “I was the one who put them all away.”

Johnny nods slowly, voice more tentative than usual as he asks, “You don’t think they’ll come after you, do you?”

Peter bites the inside of his cheek. That’s exactly what he thinks-- a growing pit in his stomach telling him that it might be even worse than that.

If the Sinister Six was real, then Peter already knew Beck was a member. Whoever Beck had been meeting at NWC - _Connors,_ a whisper in Peter’s brain supplies, even though he doesn’t have any solid proof - could be another.

And now four villains - all of whom were foes of Spider-Man and undoubtedly had a bone to pick with him - had just escaped from Rikers in what was clearly a planned breakout with outside help.

It could just be a coincidence, but then, when had _anything_ in Peter’s life just been coincidence?

The answering prickle at the back of his mind seems to confirm it. 

Barring one mysterious player Peter had yet to identify-- this was more than likely the rest of the Sinister Six. 

And if they were, did that mean they - like Beck - also knew that Peter was Spider-Man? Were they on their way to his and Johnny’s tiny apartment right now? Or god-- were they on their way to--

“May,” Peter breathes out, standing up suddenly and racing into his bedroom. He quickly puts on his suit before coming back into the living room, Johnny eyeing him in concern even as he uses Peter’s abandoned drinking glass to water Archie.

“Do you want me to come along? I don’t care if I get in trouble with Fury and Sue, bro, if you need me I’m there.”

“Nah, I’ll be okay, but thanks,” Peter says, going to a window and carefully opening it, mindful of how creaky the sill could be. 

He slips halfway through, only to pause when he hears Johnny’s voice ask, “What’re you gonna do?”

Peter turns back. “I’m going to make sure May’s safe, and after that...” 

He trails off, taking a deep breath before continuing, “And after that, I’m going to find them, and then I’m going to stop them-- no matter how long it takes.”

At Johnny’s answering nod, Peter heads out into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

Three days later Peter is walking up the steps of Tony and Pepper’s Manhattan townhouse, waiting to enter until FRIDAY completes a bioscan-- the door automatically unlocking.

It’s the Fourth of July, and whereas past years they would have all gotten together at the cabin, since it was the middle of the week everyone agreed it was much easier to celebrate in the city with a grill-out at the Stark’s. 

“Hey Pete,” Tony greets him when he enters the kitchen. “You remember to get the hot dog buns?”

“Yup,” Peter says, flopping the grocery bag down on the counter, “and also another box of Firecracker popsicles.”

“Aw, you know Mo so well,” Tony says with a grin from where he’s cutting up vegetables for a salad. “Speaking of, she’s out back with Pep, Hap and May if you want to join them.”

With a nod Peter heads makes his way to the backyard, smiling when he hears May’s familiar laugh.

He’d gotten to her apartment at record speed the night of the prison break, his relief at finding her safe and sound only surpassed by the ease he’d felt the moment he’d seen MJ clutching a mace on Tower Bridge two years before. 

Peter had tried to convince May to go to a safehouse, but she’d refused-- arguing that the security upgrades Tony had added to their apartment years before would be enough, along with the GPS watch she had worn ever since Peter’s identity had been outed and even after it had been fixed with the Skrull switch-out. 

Peter hadn’t been surprised at her decision - May had never been the type of person who ran at the first sign of danger - but all the same he worried about her safety, the image of any one of the escaped villains holding her hostage like Beck had Morgan hard to scrub from his mind. 

It didn’t help that there had been no sign of any of the four since their escape-- neither the cops nor Peter able to find any trace of them. Peter would be glad they seemed to have gone underground and disappeared if he didn’t know better-- an ominous feeling having settled over him the last few days. The feeling told him this was only the calm before the storm, made worse by the fact that he had no idea just when the storm would hit, or how bad it would be.

For now though Peter puts aside those thoughts, grinning wider as he slides open the screen door, Mo running up to him in a dripping wet bathing suit and wrapping her tiny arms around his waist as May gives him a kiss on the cheek and Pepper and Happy wave from where they’re busy getting the grill ready for burgers and hotdogs. 

The four adults visit for a few minutes before Morgan takes his hand, all but demanding he come hang out with her while she swims in the small backyard pool. Peter lets himself be tugged along, taking his shoes off and soaking his feet while Morgan swims around the shallow end, chattering on about her brand new day camp. Peter’s relieved to find that it seems to be one of her better days, and he’s careful not to ask about her first appointment with her child therapist or mention anything that might remind her of Beck-- not wanting to upset the good mood she’s in. 

About thirty minutes later Pepper announces dinner is ready, Peter playfully tousling Morgan’s wet hair with a towel as she “attacks” him with another soaked hug-- catching the fond gaze Tony has plastered on his face as he watches the two of them tease each other.

“So all’s quiet in Queens, I hope?” Tony asks Peter halfway through dinner, as everyone else is having a lively debate about the merits of potato chips versus Doritos. 

“Yup. Nothing to report,” Peter says through a mouthful of baked beans, wiping at his face with a napkin. “But I feel like it’s just a matter of time until they come at me.”

“I was actually thinking about that,” Tony says before taking a bite of his burger, Peter not missing the deliberately casual tone of voice-- the same tone Tony uses whenever he’s about to say something he knows Peter won’t want to hear.

“Oh,” Peter says back equally lightly, taking another bite of his beans. “And?”

“I was thinking maybe Spider-Man should take a break for a bit. Lay low until these guys are caught again.”

Peter closes his eyes, slowly chewing and swallowing as he tries not to let the argument that immediately climbs up his throat spill out. After all, he’d expected this from Tony from the moment he’d seen the news of the break-out. 

He just thought that after three days without the suggestion being mentioned, that  _ maybe _ Tony was choosing to trust that Peter could look after himself. No such luck, apparently.

“I’m not going to hide from this, Tony,” Peter says quietly, not wanting to alert the others to their conversation. “Besides, what difference would hiding Spider-Man do, if they also know that he’s Peter Parker?”

“First of all, we don’t know that they know that. And second, even if they do-- you don’t have to make it easy for them either, kid,” Tony says. “Every time you go out on patrol it’s like putting a target on your back, and I--”

“Well what if I  _ want _ them to find me on patrol so I can put them back in prison?” Peter retorts, his voice gathering an edge. “Y’know, just like I did the first time I put them away?”

“Each of those fights were two-on-one at most, Pete,” Tony says, setting down his burger now and turning to face Peter head-on. “This time it’s four against one, possibly even five. I know you’re plenty capable but--”

“I already told you, I’m not hiding from this,” Peter interjects, turning back to his food and stabbing at his potato salad with his fork. “I know you find this hard to believe sometimes, but I _can_ take care of myself. So the answer is no. I’m not doing that.”

“Fine,” Tony snaps, “I can’t make you. But if you won’t take precautions as Spider-Man, then at least be smart as Peter Parker.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Peter asks, not even trying to keep his voice low anymore-- barely noticing how the rest of the table quiets down.

“Look,” Tony says then, wiping a hand over his face and taking a deep breath before saying more calmly, “I just think you need to be more careful of who you trust right now.”

“Oh great,” Peter mutters, rolling his eyes. “This is about Dr. Octavius again, isn’t it?”

Tony just raises an eyebrow at him, the  _ duh _ expression on his face causing Peter’s frustration to swell. 

“There are over a hundred professors who already had access to the new science building in May,” he argues. “And we don’t even know Beck was going to meet one of them! It could have been an administrator, or one of the janitors, or--”

“Kid, if you knew some of the things Beck was saying--” 

“Okay, fine. So tell me.”

Tony shakes his head then, Peter grinding his teeth when the man replies dismissively, “It’s hardly important-- nothing but a bunch of useless crap.”

“How about I talk to him instead? I bet he’d slip up with me,” Peter offers, only to seethe when Tony chuckles incredulously-- as if the very idea is preposterous. Angry now, he adds, “Or do you think I’m not capable of that either?”

Tony frowns, sighing as he mutters, “Kid, I never said--

“Who wants a sparkler?” May suddenly asks, both Tony and Peter glancing up with wide eyes-- neither having noticed her get up and grab the packet from where it’d been left on an empty patio chair. 

May fixes them with a  _ don’t test me  _ look, before glancing pointedly at Morgan who looks more subdued than she has since Peter arrived-- guilt settling like a blanket over him as he realizes that for as careful as he’d been not to mention Beck earlier, he’d completely forgotten just now.

“I’ll take one,” Happy says then, standing up and grabbing two sparkler sticks from May before handing one to Morgan. “C’mon sweetheart, how about you be a plane and I’ll be the air traffic guy making sure you land safely, huh?”

To Peter’s relief Morgan grins at that, standing up from her seat and turning to May. “Can I please have two sparklers?”

“You sure can, sweetheart,” May says with a smile, handing her another one as Pepper stands up from the table too, grabbing two plates and taking them inside-- but not before adding her own pointed look at Peter and Tony on top of May’s. 

As soon as Morgan is safely out of earshot, Tony sighs again. “Listen Pete, I’m sorry if I--”

“It’s fine, Tony,” Peter says as he stands up himself, suddenly wanting nothing more than to head back to Queens and try to forget this conversation ever happened. “I’m actually gonna head out now, I think. Things get crazy on the Fourth every year, and it’d be good if Spider-Man made an appearance-- help to keep things calm.”

To Peter’s relief Tony doesn’t mention that Peter’s been out at the cabin the last few Fourths, nor does he argue against Peter going on patrol. Instead he just nods, saying, “Alright, kid. Just-- take care of yourself out there, okay?”

“Always do,” Peter replies dully, giving Tony one last nod-- heading over to say goodbye to the others before either of them have a chance to say anything else they might regret.

* * *

“Nice, Peter. Excellent work,” Dr. Octavius says with a smile, Peter smiling as he looks at the man leaning over his shoulder. 

Peter turns back to the tablet in his hand, a simulation of some modified biocomponents that the lab was working on for the grant that Dr. Octavius had been given. This one was working in connection with St. Luke’s, a program to revamp their veterans rehabilitation program by providing working prosthetics for half the cost. 

“Thanks, Dr. Octavius,” Peter says, fingers lightly tapping against the tablet as he says, “I’m just happy to be here.”

Suddenly Peter’s senses flare up from the constant low hum he always carries at the lab towards a sharp spike, straightening up suddenly only to hear Dr. Connors’ yelling from across the hall.

“NO! FOR THE LAST TIME, DO  _ NOT _ USE THE LEFT CENTRIFUGE. USE THE RIGHT. DAMMIT DOES NO ONE LISTEN TO ME IN THIS LAB?” 

Peter winces, hoping that he can pass off his sudden shift from Dr. Connors’ outburst as Dr. Octavius chuckles.

“That man is going to be the death of me, I swear,” he says, Peter searching his face as the professor nods towards the hall. 

“He gives us all a bad rep, you see.”

“Who, sir?” Peter asks, his senses still ringing in the background - feeling his hands start to shake as he works to control it, knowing he’ll have to get a handle on this sense of dread if Dr. Connors’ outburst were going to continue all summer long. 

“Researchers,” Dr. Octavius says with a wink, “We’re not all mad scientist types hell bent on world domination.” A beat. “At least not today.”

Peter laughs as the man smiles again. 

“You have a real talent with bioinformatics, Peter. I had some of my doctoral students work on that same simulation and it gave them trouble. Is this something that you want to pursue in the future?”

Peter straightens up at that, nodding his head he hopes not too eagerly as he says, “Yeah, actually. I’m-- I’m really curious how we can integrate the tech that we have in understanding how genetic abnormalities evolve.” 

Peter chews the inside of his cheek, watching as Dr. Octavius considers his words. It wasn’t a  _ new _ interest of his, mainly brought about by the reality of living as Spider-Man - remembering the first time Dr. Cho did a blood test on him and showed him the results. 

The spider that bit him had changed Peter in more ways than one, reassembling his genetic code in a way that made him unique - something that Peter had known from the first day that he’d woken up with his powers. 

Yet the older that he got and the further he got into college, all Peter could think of was how he could use his powers for good in more ways than one. 

“Well if this is any indication of the kind of talent and work that you’ll be bringing in this summer,” Dr. Octavius says, bringing Peter out of his thoughts, “then I think we should talk more about your plans for the fall. See if we can’t nudge around some of your classes for a practicum of some kind.”

Peter smiles a little more widely at that, seeing something flash in Dr. Octavius’ eyes as he says, “Yeah, that would-- that would be an honor, Dr. Octavius. Really. Thank you.”

“Keep up the good work. Consider this a trial run and if all goes well then…” Dr. Octavius trails off, sending a pointed glance towards Peter before turning towards the other interns - Peter knowing he can’t promise anything just yet and certainly not in front of everyone in the lab. 

A chill runs down Peter’s spine - in anticipation and nervousness he reasons, shaking himself as he clutches the tablet in his hand.

Working with Dr. Octavius in the fall would do wonders for his chance to  _ actually _ get to work on his ideas, something that could have a lasting impact on the city - if not the world, considering the type of work that Dr. Octavius did.

It reminds him once again of Tony’s words last week, feeling that same flare of anger at how judgmental and cagey he’d been.

Tony cared, Peter knows that - but there was something inherently overprotective in how Tony had spoken about everything, as if he didn’t trust Peter’s ability to handle things that he’d clearly been fine with him doing beforehand.

_ It’s because of Beck _ , Peter thinks to himself - the rationale that Tony would be wary because of how things had unfolded at the cabin with him and Morgan pushed out by the guilt that he still carries with him.

He flinches again when he hears Dr. Connors start to scream again, glancing out over to where the closed lab doors were. 

If Beck had been in the NWC, he had to have been meeting someone - Peter’s senses ringing anytime he walked in.

He taps his fingers against the desk, mulling over his options. Tony was so insistent that something was off with Dr. Octavius - something that Peter himself had yet to see.

As Dr. Connors continues to rant, Peter commits to figuring out just what it was that irritated him about the man - wondering if what his senses were telling him that Connors and Beck’s appearances were connected after all.  
  


* * *

“So how’d you start working with Dr. Connors?” Peter asks in a tone that he hopes is nonchalant.

Harry smiles at him, sharing a look with Gwen before saying, “You mean, how did people as nice as us get stuck with that asshole?”

Peter feels his cheeks warm, quickly shaking his head as he says, “No, no I didn’t—“

“It’s fine,” Gwen says, nudging Harry with her shoulder, “Harry here hasn’t learned how to interact with normal people yet.”

Peter raises an eyebrow, only for Harry to roll his eyes as Gwen says, “What? He clearly doesn’t know who you are and he seems nice. Might as well fess up now.”

Peter’s eyes shift between the two of them before Harry sighs dramatically, waving his hands around as he says, “Okay, okay, fine. You tore it out of me. I’m Harry.”

“Yeah,” Peter nods slowly, “You said that.”

“Harry  _ Osborn _ ,” he says, Peter’s eyes widening a bit as Harry puts a hand out, gesturing towards Peter.

“See? This is why I don’t tell people. They act weird.”

“It’s more weird that you think people  _ won’t  _ care,” Gwen says, “Especially since you’re here slumming it with us plebians instead of getting drunk off daddy’s money in the Hamptons somewhere.”

“Ha ha,” Harry says sarcastically, Peter watching him as he turns back to Peter. “Don’t listen to her, she’s just jealous.”

“Clearly,” Gwen deadpans, “since everyone wants to be you.”

They banter back and forth for a bit but Peter doesn’t hear it, his mind racing as he attempts to figure out if  _ this _ had been the reason that his senses had been acting up anytime he came into his internship. 

Yet sitting across from Harry - his senses were muted, no more than they were at any other point. Peter didn’t believe in coincidences, especially when the son of the man who had inadvertently made him a superhero allegedly worked in the research lab across from him for the summer.

But then Peter thinks of Tony and his paranoia over Dr. Octavius, quickly chasing away that feeling - especially since Peter didn’t sense that Harry was a danger to him just then anymore than Gwen was. 

It was suspicious in some sense but it wasn’t as if Norman Osborn had ever tried to come after him in the years since he got bit. If anything, the fact that Harry didn’t feel dangerous to him just gave Peter all the confirmation he needed that Harry wasn’t the problem.

But Harry - and Gwen for that matter -  _ were _ his ‘in’ for understanding what was going on with Dr. Connors, interjecting into their conversation by saying, “What  _ did _ make you decide to intern with Dr. Connors?”

Harry raises his eyebrow, Peter quickly amending, “I mean, instead of Dr. Octavius.”

Harry and Gwen share another look, before Harry leans forward and says, “You act like the two of us didn’t try. Dr. Octavius doesn’t accept just anybody.”

“Yeah,” Gwen says with a smile, “better question is why he chose  _ you _ .”

Peter just laughs, a surge of pride in his chest at her words that he quickly tries to shove down as he shrugs and says, “I’m sure there’s a lot of people he could’ve chosen.”

“Well,” Harry says, taking a bite of his sandwich, “if you want to switch--”

“No, I’m good,” Peter says quickly, causing both Harry and Gwen to laugh as Peter smiles. 

Harry and Gwen seemed harmless enough, at least from what Peter could figure. And while he still didn’t know what exactly was causing his senses to flare up, Peter guessed that making some new friends during his internship wouldn’t hurt in the meantime. 

* * *

“So how’s everything going?” May says as Peter sits down with his takeout box, watching her look around their apartment.

“With…?” Peter prods, fairly certain of where she’s going only for May to confirm it when she says, “With Johnny. Being roommates.”

She sighs, Peter barely holding back an eye roll as she says, “Look at you, all grown up. Tell me you two have actually gone grocery shopping.”

“ _ May _ ,” Peter says, pointedly avoiding the question as he uses his chopsticks, “we eat.”

“Not what I asked,” May says, looking at him over her glasses, “But as long as you’re keeping yourself alive, I can’t complain too much.”

Peter just smiles, shoving some food into his mouth. May coming over for dinner had been planned since before he moved in, completing their tradition of having dim sum on the second Friday of the month. 

Yet Peter couldn’t help that if it weren’t already planned, May would’ve dropped in anyway - knowing her well enough from her body language that she wanted to talk about something. 

That’s confirmed not even a minute later when May asks, “So have you talked to Tony lately?” 

Peter’s mouth is full but he takes his time chewing anyway, feeling May’s gaze on him while he swallows then shrugs and says, “Yeah.”

It wasn’t  _ exactly  _ a lie - he and Tony had exchanged a few texts, simple exchanges about Peter coming by for a suit thing that he thought he could figure out for himself.

Tony had initiated the conversation and Peter for his part had responded, albeit with short, almost one-word responses.

It was… weird being in an argument with Tony, if they could even really call it that. It wasn’t the first time they’d ever disagreed but it felt different now, as if Tony fundamentally misunderstood Peter’s line of thinking. 

“Really?” May asks, bringing Peter out of his thoughts, “Cause I talked to Pepper and she says Tony’s been a little grumpy the past week.”

“I can’t control his  _ mood _ , May. He’s an old man, of course he’s grumpy,” Peter says jokingly, catching May’s eyebrow raising as if she sees right through his deflection. 

“I’ve just been really busy with my internship,” Peter says before May can respond, facing her head on. “There’s a lot of work to do and eight hours in the lab  _ still _ doesn’t feel like enough.”

This was true - working in Dr. Octavius’ lab made Peter feel like he was being challenged for the first time in his academic career. The fact that he still had his phone on him and had time in the evening to chat with Tony is something he chooses to ignore, though it had become a bit of a routine in the past few years.

But even then, it wasn’t like it had been after Peter took down the Vulture, with Tony checking in almost every night to see how he was doing - chatting as he completed his patrols. 

If anything, the more their lives integrated and the more Peter took on - especially after the snap and his disastrous European trip - the more Tony had backed off, giving Peter the space he needed to be a hero in his own right. 

The possible reason for why Tony had seemingly reverted back to how he’d been in the first few months after homecoming wasn’t lost on Peter, but still unappreciated - especially since Peter isn’t that fifteen year old kid he’d been, inexperienced and desperate for approval.

Peter knows he should suck it up and talk to him, but he shoves that away for now - knowing as well as anyone that if Tony wanted to talk, he would. 

“Don’t be working overtime if you’re not getting paid, Pete,” May says, bringing him back to their conversation as Peter laughs.

“I’m not, May. Promise. It’s just really cool work, you know?”

May smiles at that, picking up a dumpling from her own takeout container as she says, “I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Just don’t get too wrapped up in work either okay? Balance, Pete.”

“I know, I know,” Peter says with a smile, picking at his own food as May asks, “Speaking of balance, when’s MJ coming home again?”

Peter smiles a bit more genuinely this time as he says, “Next weekend. Her mom is picking her up from the airport but I’m gonna take her to that little farmer’s market she likes, the one in Jackson Heights?”

May hums approvingly, Peter poking a hole in his soup dumpling as she says, “You guys doing okay?”

Peter’s head snaps up to look at her. He knew that her and Michelle talked freely, something he genuinely didn’t mind. Even the farmer’s market he was taking her to had been one May had recommended to her.

But Peter wondered now if Michelle had mentioned the change in their own communication to May as well, getting the sense that May being here was a check up in more ways than one. 

“Yeah, why?”

May just raised an eyebrow, Peter debating how to respond only for there to be a knock at the door.

Peter’s senses are muted as May looks at him in confusion, shrugging as he sets down his food and heads towards the door.

He smiles when he looks through the peephole, opening it as he says, “Sue, hi! What’s up?”

Sue Storm smiles warmly at him, Peter welcoming her into the apartment as she says, “I was coming to surprise you and J, see if you wanted dinner.”

She smiles at May, “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

May waves a hand, “You’re just fine, Pete and I are just catching up.”

“You’re welcome to join if you want. Johnny said he had a ‘thing’ but that he’d be here later and you know,” Peter shrugs, “I don’t ask questions.”

“With my brother? Good plan,” Sue says with a laugh before looking back to May and extending her hand. 

“I don’t think we’ve officially met yet, I’m Sue. Johnny’s sister.”

May stands, moving for a hug that Sue welcomes as she says, “Sue, nice to finally meet you. I volunteer at FEAST and your grants from the Future Foundation are wonderfully appreciated.”

Sue beams at that, “Thank you, that’s great to hear.” She pats her pregnant belly before saying, “I think it’s important to do all that we can for the future. Big ways and small.”

“Agreed,” May replies, Peter moving some stuff aside from the couch as he says, “You’re welcome to join us.”

“Oh no, it’s—“

“Please,” May says, “we have plenty. You know them,” May nods towards Peter, “have to order the whole restaurant to keep him fed.”

“Hey!” Peter says playfully, only for Sue to laugh as she sits down.

“When J first told us about Peter’s metabolism, Reed wanted to do a full scale work up. Had to remind him that Peter is a friend, not a science experiment.”

May and Sue both laugh at that, Peter smiling on the surface only to think back to what that conversation was like - remembering how almost  _ jealous _ Tony had been. 

Everyone in Peter’s life had been objectively thankful for the arrival of the “Fantastic Four” - as the Bugle dubbed them - from space and their immediate joining of SHIELD, especially when people had still been debating Peter’s identity and Skrull cover story.

Yet the reminder of that moment and how Tony had reacted then just puts Peter back in a sour mood, mulling over what to do next.

He should talk to Tony and clear the air - but the thought as it had all week cuts off short, a flash of something he can’t name as he sits in the chair across from May and Sue.

Tony was trying to be protective, as he always was. Yet Sue sitting across from him was proof that Tony  _ wasn’t  _ always in the right - remembering how skeptical he’d been about the Storm siblings, Reed and Ben. 

It nags at Peter then, the reminder of this and the other times Tony had questioned his judgement - only for everything to work out in the end. 

As May and Sue continue to chatter, a sinking feeling forms in the pit of Peter’s stomach - beginning to wonder for the first time just how much Tony’s overprotection had been a hindrance rather than a help.


	3. Chapter 3

Peter kisses her again, feeling the smile on her lips as she leans back.

“Merry Christmas.”

“Peter—“

“Can’t argue with the mistletoe,” Peter says again, kissing her one more time as he looks above them, the stall owner clapping her hands in amusement. 

Michelle smirks, fingers interlocked with his as she drags him forward. 

“This was supposed to be about finding a new pot for Archie,” she says over her shoulder, Peter smiling as he squeezes her hand, “not the commercialization of holidays.”

Peter shrugs, taking a few steps so he can walk at her side as he says, “I missed you. Can you blame me for wanting to make up for lost time?”

Michelle rolls her eyes at that, Peter nudging her side with his elbow when she says, “You’re a mess. First, getting Archie settled. Then when we get back,” she looks back at him, Peter’s heart thrumming in his chest, “you can show me how much you missed me.” 

Peter grins, pointing towards a random stall, “Wow, look at that. A yellow pot, perfect for Archie. Come on, let’s go.”

Michelle laughs at that, Peter smiling as they continue to walk through the aisles of the farmer’s market. 

Buying a plant for his and Johnny’s fern - who by some miracle was still hanging on - wasn’t exactly what Peter had anticipated when he’d mentioned it to Michelle but he was glad for the distraction, sensing from the side glance that she was giving him that he would have to talk to her sooner rather than later. 

May’s words from the other day rattle around in his mind, wondering how it was possible for Michelle to have sensed how preoccupied he was even from across the Atlantic. 

The missing prisoners were like a shadow hanging over his head, Peter’s whole being vibrating with anticipation as he searched endlessly for them. He knew that it was the exact  _ opposite _ of what Tony had wanted, but Peter reasoned that he had been the one to originally put them in jail.

Peter should be the one to make sure they get back to where they belong. 

They pass another three stalls without saying a word, a comfortable silence that makes Peter more thankful than ever that he wasn’t dating someone who required every empty space to be filled with nonsense.

But it’s not until they’re at the end of the row that Peter realizes he’s been so lost in his thoughts that it’s not till Michelle stops in place, staring at him with a look that he’s seen plenty of times before that prompts him to ask, “What’s up?”

“What do you think?” Michelle asks casually, looking at him up and down before gesturing towards a ceramic blue pot. 

“I think it’s nice?”

Michelle laughs, rolling her eyes. “I meant what do you think of the color? Same blue as Johnny’s suit right?”

“ _ MJ, _ ” Peter whispers as he glances around, hoping no one over heard.

“ _ Peter _ ,” Michelle mimics, a smirk on her face as she says, “No one knows what suit we’re talking about.”

Her smirk falls as she studies his face, eyebrows furrowing before asking, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Peter answers a little too quickly, “yeah, fine. Just— just tired.”

Michelle purses her lips, going to say something before Peter gestures towards the vendor.

“How much is this?”

“Fifty dollars.”

Peter’s eyes widen as he says, “ _ Fifty— _ ? Yeah no. We’re good, thank you.”

“Thirty,” Michelle counters, Peter’s head swiveling between the vendor and his girlfriend.

“Thirty? For this craftsmanship? You’re kidding me.”

“You and every guy in this market. You want fifty dollars when I can go to the next stall and find something better for fifteen?”

The vendor laughs, “Yeah, you ain’t getting anything for fifteen. Twenty maybe.”

Michelle nods, a fake smile on her face as she says, “Good to know your competitor’s prices. Come on, Pete. Let’s go.”

The vendor pales at that, Peter barely holding back a laugh as the vendor extends his hand out.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait. Not so fast.”

Peter watches in amazement as they barter back and forth, Michelle clearly being in her element as she counters every offer the vendor gives.

By the time they leave the stall, they not only have the pot but enriched soil, some starter herbs for Michelle’s own garden and information about a community garden that Peter makes a mental note of passing on to May.

“You’re amazing,” Peter says with a huff, holding everything that she’d bought with ease. He catches Michelle’s smile out of the corner of his eye only to hear her say, “I know.”

Peter laughs at that, turning to her as she says, “But it’s still nice to hear you say it.” 

“I mean it, MJ. Is that what your internship was like?”

Michelle nods, the two of them making their way out of the market and towards her car. “Yeah, but for art pieces not plants, obviously. It was really cool. I liked it a lot more than I thought I would.”

“You’re really good at it,” Peter replies, chewing the inside of his cheek as he says, “I’m surprised you weren’t offered a job on the spot.”

He catches Michelle’s eye roll as they make their way to her car, Michelle opening up the trunk as she says, “The Louvre isn’t gonna hire a college sophomore, Pete. I’m good but I’m not  _ that _ good.”

Peter just shrugs, depositing the things they’ve bought in a heap as he says, “Could’ve fooled me.” 

Peter should have guessed that Michelle would take that as an opening, bracing himself as they both got into the car and she says, “So we’re gonna talk about this right?”

Peter blinks as he puts his seatbelt on, knowing exactly what Michelle is referring to but playing dumb as he replies, “Talk about what?”

Michelle gives him a look as she fastens her own seatbelt. 

“Talk about the fact that you’ve been spacey for the past few weeks every time we’ve talked? Not to mention all day today?” 

“I’m not--” Peter starts to lie only for Michelle to raise an eyebrow, turning to him as she says, “For someone who just complimented me on my debate skills, do you  _ really _ want to go that route?” 

Peter chews the inside of his cheek, mentally calculating his chances of successfully avoiding this only for Michelle to reach a hand over to his. 

She looks the same as she did on that bridge back in London two years ago, a mix of concerned and worried that causes Peter’s stomach to roll. 

“I’m not gonna force you into talking about anything you’re not ready to. I know that everything that happened was… hard,” Michelle says carefully, Peter adjusting his hand so he can hold hers. 

“But you  _ can _ talk to me about it, you know that right?” she asks, Peter seeing the flash of vulnerability across her face. 

Peter does, just as he knows he could talk to May or Tony or Johnny. But all Peter can feel is a sense of responsibility that’s almost crushing, the recognition that he couldn’t try and explain how he feels about everything that had happened without admitting how horrifically he failed.

The image of Beck’s hallucinations and his nightmares flash behind his eyes once more, Michelle’s imaginary screams ringing in his ears conflicted with the concerned look on her face now.

But Peter deflects, forcing a smile on his face as he squeezes her hand.

“Of course, MJ. I know.” 

* * *

“Peter, you’re here!”

“Hey Mo!” Peter calls back with a grin as Morgan runs up to him from where she’d been climbing the playground’s monkey bars. Peter waves to Tony - sitting on a bench not far away and idly scrolling through his phone - just before he picks Morgan up and swings her around in a tight hug. 

He hadn’t seen any of the Starks since the Fourth of July get-together nearly a month before. And even though it was true Peter had been preoccupied with both his internship and MJ-- part of him knew that he’d kept his distance just as much because of the argument with Tony. 

Peter was grateful that Tony knew him well enough to give him his space, checking in by text every few days but otherwise not reaching out until he’d called just as Peter was leaving the lab, wondering if he’d come meet them at the park by Morgan’s therapist’s office.

Peter was glad now he’d agreed even if he’d been hesitant initially, spending a good twenty minutes pushing Morgan on the swings as she told him about the jewelry-making playset Tony and Pepper had bought for her the week before-- excitedly showing off every single bedazzled ring, bracelet and necklace she was wearing and vowing that she’d make Peter something “really cool and shiny” for his birthday that was coming up fast.

Yet despite her seeming good mood, Peter doesn’t miss the way Morgan keeps glancing with a guarded expression at the large sandbox where two other children are building a castle-- the sand just sticky enough from the rain of an early morning storm that had passed through.

“Do you want to go play with those kids? I bet they could use another helper,” he says, Morgan shaking her head somberly. “Ah Mo, why not? You love building sandcastles.”

Morgan mumbles something, Peter gently holding onto the swing ropes until she comes to a stop, walking around and kneeling down in front of Morgan.

“What was that?”

Morgan’s eyes grow slightly teary as she says, “Cubie said I was good at making sandcastles, but he lied about  _ everything. _ So that means I’m bad at it.”

Playing on the lake beach had been Morgan’s favorite summer activity at the cabin, and now it was nothing but another innocent thing ripped away from her because of Beck-- Peter’s guilt at his failure to protect her flaring up as he realizes this is yet another symptom of her trauma manifesting. 

Well, Peter can’t change the past, but maybe he can still help with this.

“Cubie did lie about a lot of things, you’re right,” Peter begins, “but you being really good at sandcastles? That’s just the plain truth, Mo.”

Morgan looks up hopefully. “How do you know?”

“Because I know for a  _ fact _ that you’re an amazing sandcastle builder,” Peter says with a smile, “and I'd never lie to you.”

“You promise?” 

“I promise,” Peter says as he holds out a pinkie, Morgan hooking it with her own. “Now why don’t you go prove me right, huh? Show those kids how a true sandcastle expert does it.”

“Okay,” Morgan says with a smile, hopping off the swing and giving Peter a small hug before bounding off-- Peter watching fondly as she asks if she can join only to start patiently demonstrating the ‘proper’ technique for carving out windows.

“Good job, Pete,” Tony says as Peter sits down next to him. “You handled that like a champ.”

“Yeah well,” Peter says, “if I hadn’t let Beck get so close in the first place, it--”

“Nope, we’re not doing that today, kid,” Tony interjects. “We are  _ not _ going down the Everything is Peter Parker’s Fault path. I won’t tolerate such baseless slander of my favorite young adult. Got it?”

Peter chuckles, giving a small smile. “Sure, I got it.”

“Good,” Tony says firmly, before his expression changes, turning soft. “Listen kid, I’m sorry about how things went on the Fourth. I didn’t mean to start an argument-- I’m just trying to look out for you, that’s all.”

Peter sighs. “I understand, but… I’m an adult now, Tony. Which means you have to let me make my own choices, even when you don’t agree with them.”

“I hate when you’re right,” Tony says mournfully after a few moments, Peter laughing. “Do you think you could at least take the Storm kid out with you when you patrol?”

Peter’s jaw drops. “You’re trusting Johnny now?  _ You?” _

Tony rolls his eyes. “Desperate times, kid. Not to mention I can’t help but remember the last time more than one of these asshole escapees ganged up to fight you.”

“Oh, come on! The coma was light, even Cho said so. More like an extra long nap, if anything.”

Tony twists his head to look at Peter skeptically. “Oh really? Try saying that with a straight face to May and maybe then I’ll believe you.”

“I’ll pass,” Peter says with a grimace. “But all the same, I  _ did _ manage to web up both Kraven and Sandman before passing out, and besides-- that was over two years ago. I’ve had loads more training and experience since then.”

Tony makes a  _ hrmph _ noise, Peter shaking his head as he says, “Fine, I’ll try to get Johnny to come with next time. Now will you at least tell me what all Beck’s been saying? ‘Cause I deserve to know.”

Peter doesn’t miss the way Tony hesitates then, trying hard not to lose his cool when Tony replies, “I wasn’t lying before when I said it was a bunch of useless crap. The man is certifiable, Pete.”

“Just because nothing he’s saying means anything to you or SHIELD, doesn’t mean it won’t mean something to me,” Peter argues. “Just tell me, Tony.”

Tony sighs. “Okay, fine, here’s an example. Whenever anyone asks him where the escapees are holed up he just starts singing the chorus of  _ Down by the River  _ over and over at the top of his lungs.”

Peter’s brow furrows. “Isn’t that a song about some guy murdering his girlfriend?”

Tony nods. “See? A bunch of useless bullshit.”

Peter glances away, watching Morgan for a few moments as she shows the two kids how to build a moat with a bridge-- the fear he’d felt back at the cabin when Beck had her in his grip hitting him again full force.

He turns back to Tony. “You’d tell me if he ever said anything more serious though, right? I don’t care if it seems like meaningless intel or baseless threats-- if it was about anyone I loved or about me, you’d tell me, right?”

“Of course,” Tony agrees just a little too quickly, Peter narrowing his eyes and continuing to stare. After a few moments Tony turns to him, firmly adding, “I said I’d tell you, and I mean it. But so far there’s simply nothing to tell, kid.”

Peter stares at him for a few more seconds - trying to gauge how truthful he’s being - but Tony’s poker face gives nothing away. 

Part of Peter wants to call Tony’s bluff, but he doesn’t-- not wanting to start another argument when they’d only just made up. And yet, Peter  _ knows _ Tony is leaving something out, even if he has no idea what it is. Maybe if he just pushed a bit harder--

“Can we get ice cream now, Dad?”

Peter is startled out of his indecision, looking up to see Morgan right there-- the sandcastle now completed and the two other kids working on something that sort of resembles a dragon but could also be a lopsided tea pot. 

“Sure thing, munchkin,” Tony says, standing up and turning to Peter with a smile. “What do you say kid? You up for a sundae?”

Seeing Morgan’s eager expression, Peter smiles-- putting his darker thoughts to the back of his mind. “Only if you spring for three scoops.”

“You strike a hard bargain, but I suppose those are acceptable terms.”

* * *

It’s only later on, just as he gets back to the apartment, that Peter thinks about the little Tony had shared of what Beck had said. 

_ She could drag me over the rainbow,  _

_ Send me away. _

_ Down by the river, _

_ I shot my baby. _

_ Down by the river. _

_ Dead, ooh, ooh, shot her dead, ooh. _

Sure, maybe Beck belting out a random song from the sixties meant absolutely nothing, but also-- it would make sense that the escapees had stayed close to the shore of the river, wouldn’t it? After all, there was no sign of their getaway boat to be found anywhere, Peter knew-- they must have had a nearby place to stash it. Peter could use his patrol that night to investigate.

Just then Peter remembers his promise to Tony that he’d take Johnny with him on patrol-- only to recall with a groan that Johnny was on a mission with the Fantastic Four, and wouldn’t be home until at least the weekend.

For a moment Peter considers waiting until Johnny’s back, only to shake his head to himself. He had been on thousands of patrols before without major incident, and besides-- he’s stronger, smarter and more capable than the last time he had fought any of the escapees.

Peter doesn’t need Johnny or anyone else to take them down. He’d get the job done regardless.

Mind made up, Peter settles in to wait until nightfall.

* * *

Peter patrols down by the riverbank for hours, but as midnight comes and goes, he gets more and more discouraged that the hunch he’d had about Beck’s song was nothing more than grasping at straws.

He’s just swinging through a narrow alley, about to head home for the night when two figures step out of the shadows.

“If it isn’t the world’s most annoying insect, Spider-Man.”

Peter’s lenses go wide as he effortlessly switches trajectory, gracefully swooping low and clinging to the wall at the other end of the alley from the pair.

Before him stand Kraven and Scorpion, both decked out in new gear and glaring menacingly at Peter.

“Just the comedy duo I was looking for,” Peter says by way of greeting. “You two have been very naughty, by the way. Breaking out of your playpen before time-out was over? I’m frankly disappointed.”

Scorpion makes a hissing sound, starting to lunge forward - his electro-mechanical tail poised to strike - only for Kraven to put a hand on his chest, holding him back.

“You are very sloppy, Spider-Man,” Kraven says, sneering. “I have been tracking you with ease all night.”

“Ah, Serg, and here I thought we were such good friends,” Peter replies, cocking his head when he adds, “But if it was so easy, why wait until now to come say hello?”

“The professor says we must wait to kill you until after he has what he wants,” Kraven says, sounding unhappy. “Then we can do whatever we desire to what’s left of you.”

“A professor?” Peter says conversationally even as he tenses, waiting for the most opportune moment to attack. “And what  _ professor  _ would that happen to be?” 

Kraven barks out a laugh as Scorpion smirks, the latter saying with contempt, “Wouldn’t you like to know, bug.”

Peter rolls his eyes. “Who’re you calling ‘bug’, dude? Do you not see your costume right now?”

Kraven glances at Scorpion just as Scorpion looks down at his outfit, and Peter uses the split-second distraction to make his move-- shooting out a web at the villains that has them both dodging to opposite sides as Peter swings over and lands on the pavement between them. He shoots another web at where Scorpion is sprawled out on the ground-- covering both his legs and tail in the sticky substance. 

Just as Peter is about to send a web over the criminal’s torso to fully immobilize him he feels a buzz in his mind, instinctively ducking just in time to avoid Kraven choking him from behind. The villain roars as Peter twists around and kicks Kraven’s legs out from under him, only to get back on his feet with superhuman speed. 

Furious, he throws out a volley of punches and jabs, and Peter is reminded once again how grateful he is for the close combat training he’s had since he last met the villain-- now far more able to dodge and deflect every hit that comes his way.

After a good minute or two of exchanging blows, Peter finally lands a solid kick to the chest-- Kraven going flying into the brick of the old dockyard building behind him. Peter covers him in webbing, the villain cursing Spider-Man and Spider-Man’s mother all the while.

“Now now, Serg, I won’t refute any of what you just said about me, but really? My mother? Not a very kind thing to call a lady,” Peter says, smirking as he puts one last web over Kraven’s mouth, muffling his words. 

He turns to see Scorpion struggling to cut himself out of the webbing covering his legs and tail with his pincers, Peter shaking his head as he casually walks over to stand over the man who just hisses at him some more even as he frantically snips away.

“Tsk, tsk, Mac my man,” Peter admonishes. “This-- this is just pitiful, dude.”

He watches for a few moments longer as the villain grunts as he makes slow work of tearing the webbing, Peter thinking to himself about how relatively easy it had been to subdue the two villains. 

Maybe Tony hadn’t thought he could do it on his own, but for once things had gone exactly as Peter had hoped they would, and he couldn’t lie-- it felt good.

Because here was proof that Peter  _ didn’t  _ need another superhero at his side to beat his foes, like Tony so clearly thought. He  _ didn’t  _ need anyone else’s help. The proof was--

The buzzing in Peter’s mind that had been pleasantly humming suddenly grows into a screaming crescendo, Peter twisting around just in time to get hit with a wall of sand that blows him straight out of the alley and onto the empty road.

Before he can so much as get back on his feet the sand is whirling around him with the force of a tornado, Peter just barely having the presence of mind to realize that Sandman must have arrived while Peter was busy lording his victory-- too consumed by being smug to stay fully alert.

It was a foolish mistake and one that Peter is quickly realizing could cost him everything as the sand builds and builds, encasing first his feet and then his legs. It seems he wasn’t the only one whose powers had been honed the last few years-- Peter not remembering Sandman being quite so adept at controlling the particles before Peter sent him to prison as he apparently is now. 

As the sand presses in around Peter’s chest he frantically tries to dig his arms out, but they are stuck fast to his sides by the immense pressure. Only when the sand reaches his chin does Peter truly start to panic, the memory of being trapped in a collapsed building coming back to him with a ferocity that he hadn’t faced in years, not even in his nightmares. 

For a split second all Peter can think is how he can’t breathe, he can’t  _ breathe.  _ In response the nanites of his mask - so impressively attuned to even his subconscious will - react before he can think to stop them, fading away from around his mouth and nose.

Two things happen then: the sand covers Peter’s mouth, and Peter takes a deep breath.

As the sand plunges down his throat Peter feels the immediate urge to cough, just barely controlling himself-- knowing all he would breathe in is more of the tiny grains. But the hacking starts instinctively a few seconds later anyway, Peter’s body thrashing about as his lungs scream for air.

He’s barely aware of the villains, distantly registering Kraven barking out what sounds like an order to stand down just before the sand covers his ears and eyes, cutting off all his senses from the outside world. Far closer he can hear Karen chirping in his ear, asking him if he wants her to alert Tony to his mounting distress.

But even if Peter wanted to respond he finds he can’t. Not because of the sand in his airway, no-- but because everything has started to go numb, the lack of oxygen settling into his mind and muscles.

He is just about to drift off when suddenly the sand encasing him is whipped away, Peter dropping onto the pavement and landing hard on his hands and knees as he starts to hack up sand.

His lungs and throat feel like they’ve been grated over with sandpaper - the truth not all that far off from the analogy - and there’s no way his voice won’t be a wreck tomorrow. But all Peter can manage to focus on is the beautiful, incredible,  _ amazing _ feeling of breathing again.

By the time he opens his eyes and looks around, the alley is empty-- the trio of villains having disappeared altogether. 

“Fuck,” Peter mutters gruffly and yep, his voice sounds awful. With slumped shoulders he walks over into the alley again-- seeing his shredded webs on the ground. Scorpion must have succeeded in cutting himself out only to take care of Kraven’s webs while Sandman kept Peter busy.

_ “Fuck,” _ Peter curses again with more emphasis, gritting his teeth as he makes a noise of frustration. If only he hadn’t let himself get distracted - if only he hadn’t been so  _ foolish _ \- then he could have taken down half of the Sinister Six in one fell swoop.

“Peter?” Karen asks. “Your oxygen levels remain below normal. Would you like me to contact Tony Stark?”

“No,” Peter says harshly, then with a tone of resignation, “No, Karen. Thanks for asking, but I’ll be just fine.”

“If you say so, Peter.”

With a sigh Peter sends up a web-- considering trying to track down the villains for a few moments before turning back toward the direction of the apartment. His lungs and throat - not to mention his ego - definitely need time to heal before he goes after them again.

As he swings toward home, Peter tamps down his shame at having been bested and instead thinks over what the night had revealed. If nothing else, at least now he knows the sixth member is indeed a professor. If Peter could just get some sort of proof that it was Connors, then maybe he’d have the key to finding where all the others were hiding out and capturing them all at once.

He doesn’t know what Kraven meant about the professor’s plans for him, but he is certain that whatever it is, it probably isn’t good. 

Halfway home he thinks about making a detour in the Upper East Side to tell Tony about the fight, only to shake his head.

All Tony would do when he found out about what happened is freak out and then as soon as both Karen and FRIDAY assured him Peter was alright, lay into Peter about going out after the escaped criminals without Johnny like he said he would.

Besides, Tony already didn’t trust him to look after himself, or seemingly about anything having to do with the Sinister Six. There was no reason to give the man more ammo for his arguments.

No, Peter would just have to find another way to get what he needs. But how?

Again Peter curses his luck. If only the criminals had been more forthcoming tonight, or if Peter had just been smart enough to get more answers all those weeks ago from Beck--

Peter gasps.  _ Beck. _

Whether Tony liked it or not-- Peter needed to talk to Beck. But Tony had already made it clear that he’d never allow it...

Well, Peter thinks to himself with a smirk, what Tony doesn’t know won’t hurt him. And besides, he could hardly stay mad at Peter if him talking to Beck manages to get them the first real bit of intel on the Sinister Six, right?

Decision made, Peter instructs Karen to dial a number he hadn’t called in years-- had in fact avoided for weeks at one point. The tone rings and rings and rings, Peter nearly losing hope before--

“This better be good, Parker. It’s the damn middle of the night.”

Peter grins. “Long time no talk, Director.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated! Or come hang out with us on tumblr: [blondsak](https://blondsak.tumblr.com) and [seekrest](https://seek-rest.tumblr.com).


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